


Tromsø

by rosweldrmr



Series: Aeviternity Verse [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Aeviternity verse, F/M, Supplemental Fic, loki in disguise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5284166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosweldrmr/pseuds/rosweldrmr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His brother’s voice is soft and warm when he calls to her, pulls her from the tight embrace of slumber. “Jane.” | Loki, disguised as Thor, pays Jane a visit when he's on Earth. (MCU Avengers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tromsø

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to be part of [Aeviternity](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5045719?view_full_work=true), but it didn't quite fit anywhere in there so I decided to make this a stand alone fic. You can imagine this taking place in that universe if you like, and there are a few, subtle, hints of this in that fic but not implicitly stated. There will be no resolution to this incident in that canon either. I just really liked this idea and I wanted to work it in there somewhere. You can take it as part of that universe or not.

It had been such a simple thing, to slide into the false skin of his brother.[1] He sends his double off to attend to other things, here and there. The Tesseract is a needy thing, requiring attention and care that he does not wish to give.

 _Always_ , The Other whispers in his ear, commands him to bow before the will of Thanos. Loki can feel the defiance in his blood waning. He grows weak even now. His dupe costs more energy than it should. His compromised state will drain him soon enough.

Until then, he must obey. He is compelled to seek those whom Thanos wishes to see cowed. He sends the other puppets after bits and bobs required to extract the power of the Tesseract. The doctor, one of Thor’s pets, says it speaks to him. Loki leaves him to his madness after that.

He has an errand to run.

It is not a defiance of his orders, merely a bend in the road that leads him to the small, cold village where Thor and his S.H.I.E.L.D. compatriots have hidden his woman away. Loki means to make good on his promise to Thor from a year ago. If he is to be controlled, he will at least have the satisfaction of seeing to his own vengeance. He longs to see her eyes glow blue with the otherworldly power of the scepter. He wishes to see her on bended knee first. Then he will parade his new puppet for his brother to see. He justifies this to the will of the mind gem by reasoning that she is more adept at Midgardian magicks than the old man and will make a fine addition to his collection.

He slips by the antiquated alarms as if they are nothing. A glamor to hide his presence, a charm to dampen the sounds of her room.

He comes to her under the dancing sheaves of rainbow lights[2] that shine like cosmic waves caught in the black ocean of Midgard’s sky. And so he finds her quiet in repose. She sleeps like the dead.

His brother’s voice is soft and warm when he calls to her, pulls her from the tight embrace of slumber. “Jane.”

He sets upon her a spell to dull her sense. To her, he will appear as a dream.

He watches as her eyes open slowly and she takes him in. There is a moment where he worries that she can see through his disguise, the way her eyes harden so. But then she sobs, a wretched sound that strikes the heart of him. “You left me,” she accuses and Loki’s feels an unease at her words.

This woman knows what it’s like to be cast aside by his brother. She was abandoned, used up like a bawd. He wonders how his brother must have taken from her. And all his carefully laid plans to conquer her, body and mind, seem misguided. Perhaps he’s overestimated her worth.

“I know,” he confesses in another man’s voice. “Forgive me.”

And there is no more talk. She flings herself at him, catching him by surprise when she presses her lips to his. And his plans fall away. There is only the hot, wet cloying of her tongue and his hands clenched in her hair, dragging her back and down as he looms over her. She is desperate for him, pawing at his illusioned armor and garish cape. And it’s a foolish thing to do, to allow the lie of it to sweep him away. But the way she arches into his touch, like she’s starved for it, is something he has never known.

To be this desired is intoxicating. He looks at her and there is something delicate and cherished in the way she gazes back. It is not the fear he has become accustomed to. He is not the monster now. He is the hero, and she wills him to lesson her in love. [3] It is something he knows nothing of, and he is lost to it.

“Don’t leave me again,” she moans in the heated space between their bodies. And he is eager to take that which she gives.

But there is something about this that is not right. His mind aches and there is a pain blooming behind his eyes. His will is at war with another.

Thanos commands him leave her be.

 _‘She is a complication_ ,’[4] he warns and Loki gasps at the pain of defiance.

 _You will not take this from me_ , he surges back with as much blazing opposition as he is capable. But his rebellion is a futile one. As long as the will of the scepter is at work, he is little more than a figurine.

He cries out in pain and his glamor flickers. Beneath him, the mortals eyes are hazed with his enchantment, she sees nothing of his true self. Her red flannel shirt hangs open, exposing the soft expanse of skin of her stomach. Her covered breasts heave in labored breath and he is spurned on to behold it.

This world is his for the taking. And take he will. But Thanos will not allow it. He robs Loki of his power and autonomy. He is as impotent as the mortal woman resting between his thighs.

“Thor?” she calls, an edge of fear to her voice that drives Loki to action. He knows the sweet sound of horror as if she’d called his own name.

“How lucky you are,” he croons, his fingers tracing the slope of her brow. Then he presses a fingertip to her temple, and she is lost to him. He watches her just a moment longer, memorizes just the way she looks under him, laments this lost chance at revenge.

Someday, he promises himself, someday he will come for her in earnest. Like the strange lights that surge and swell above them, she is a strange curiosity. She, who is more than she ought to be. He will learn the secret of her power, carve the grace from her bones and leave her godless.[5] So not even Thor could restore that divinity which made her so exceptional.

Were he free, he would take her as she is. No gem, no glamour. Just the lust of a woman too long neglected and a man starved for physical release. He would set her on her knees and command she take him in her dainty mouth. He would kiss her breathless and lay her bare before him. Like the strange lights that surge and swell above them, she is a work of art. The darkness of her hair dripping from her shoulders, he looks at her and marvels. Oh, when he was through with her, ghosts would have shone more brightly than her soul. [6]

**Author's Note:**

> [1] <http://ekatherina91.deviantart.com/art/While-we-waiting-Ragnarok-part-03-537090426>
> 
> [2] <http://www.blackcatpoems.com/e/aurora_borealis.html>
> 
> [3] <http://rosweldrmr.tumblr.com/post/123758848277>
> 
> [4] <http://rosweldrmr.tumblr.com/post/118475771246>
> 
> [5] <http://rosweldrmr.tumblr.com/post/124256904137>
> 
> [6] <http://rosweldrmr.tumblr.com/post/129651302052>  


End file.
